A warm shiver traveled down her spine, and wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed his skin.
“That sounds very exciting,” she whispered.
“I think it will be,” he replied softly, and lifting her as he stood, he carried her through the bedroom, and into his bathroom.
It was startlingly different to hers. Chocolate brown and beige marble counters reflected the rich wood of the mahogany cabinets, and caramel sconces filled the room with a gentle, amber light. An oversized, waterfall shower head bent impressively over the center of the expansive stall, and she saw something else she couldn’t quite make out.
Placing her on her feet, he deftly unzipped the back of her dress, letting it drop to the floor. She was naked underneath, just as he had hoped, and leading her into the shower he moved her against the wall, raising her arms.
Looking up, she spied what she hadn’t been able to identify. From a towel rack set above her head hung two, six-inch chains snapped to rubber cuffs. It took only seconds for her wrists to be secured, the cuffs having Velcro closures. Simon turned on the faucets, and the warm waterfall shower sprayed the stall.
Taking the almond, French-milled soap from the built-in alcove, he rubbed it against a large, natural sea sponge, creating a bundle of aromatic foam, and placing it against her neck, smoothed it down and across her clavicle, then roamed it over her breasts.
“Oooh, Simon,” she moaned, “that feels amazing.”
Letting the water splash the soap from her body, he leaned his head down, engulfing her rosebuds in his mouth, sucking and nipping, drawing them against his tongue, then slithering the sponge between her legs, he massaged gently, then aggressively, building her pending moment.
“Simon,” she groaned, “please don’t stop.”
“I will if I choose to,” he reminded her, “but I won’t tonight. You have earned your pleasure.”
Her need had been building for hours, beginning with the silent whipping and merciless fingering in the dressing room. She had ached through the anticipation of waiting for him in her newly appointed ‘sucking dress,’ then felt her sex wetly fire as she succumbed to the hedonistic joy of slipping her mouth around his cock and swallowing his essence.
Lifting his head from her wet, luscious breasts, he brought his lips to her neck, pressing firmly, running his lips near her ear, then back down to her nipples, continuing to stroke the scintillating sponge against her sex, knowing her climax would be upon her quickly. She was gasping, moving her head from side to side, spreading her legs and arching her back.
“Simon, please?”
“Of course,” he urged, rubbing urgently.
The bubble wasn’t a bubble, it was a hot air balloon, and Belle could feel the flames under her, fueling her rise to the heavens. As she cried out, the euphoria seizing her, she felt his hand across her mouth, muffling her shrieks. Her legs were crossing, squeezing the sponge, milking the moment, and then she began to drift downward, gently landing her head on his shoulder. Quickly unshackling her wrists, he held her tenderly as he turned off the faucets.
“Come on, my sweet Belle, let’s get you dried off.”
Half walking, half stumbling, she leaned on him as he led her out of the stall to a large, soft bench against the bathroom wall, where he laid an oversized towel across her body. Letting her rest, he dried off and pulled on a pair of comfortable sweat pants and a sweater. Flicking her eyes open, she looked across at him.
“Simon, can I tell you that you’re amazing?” she said quietly.
“I think you just did,” he replied.
She smiled, then yawned and stretched.
“I think I’m starving,” she declared. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yes, it’s, wow, past eight,” he replied, checking his watch on the counter. “What would you like to eat?”
“Um, oh, anything, but not too heavy. I think I’ll want to go to sleep very soon.”
“You and me both,” he agreed. “You get dressed, and I’ll have something sent up to the small dining room.”
“First,” she sighed, standing up, “I need a huge hug.”
Dropping the towel and padding across to him, she leaned her naked body against him.
“I’m so lucky,” she breathed.
“We both are,” he replied holding her tightly, silently adding, and I never want this to end.
After their much needed dinner, Simon took Belle for a short tour through the remainder of the second floor, then downstairs into the main reception room, the expansive formal dining room, his study, and a two-story library.
“This set of rooms is what I call the first apartment,” he stated, as they were heading back to their bedroom in the elevator. “There are seven apartments in all, only two are furnished. This one, and the apartment where the live-in staff is housed.”
“Simon, tomorrow can I just wander around by myself and explore?” “Sure. Go wherever you want.”
“There’s something else I keep forgetting to tell you,” she continued, as they stepped off on to their floor. “I met the nicest man yesterday, at an electronics shop. Badir was his name and–”
“Badir? When did you meet Badir?”
“Yesterday, as I said. I went in and–”
“Say no more, you went in to buy a phone. I should have seen to that when we landed. Don’t worry, I’ll call him first thing. Badir is fantastic. He installed some of the electronics in this house.”
“Really?” she grinned. “He was certainly very nice to me. I’ll walk down there. I’d like to.”
“Not meaning to change the subject, but, there’s something else I must show you before we go to bed.”
“Sounds intriguing,” she remarked.
“Through here,” he said, leading her to the hallway door of the Salon.
Pushing it open and flicking on the lights, Belle saw the array of boxes she’d discovered earlier that day.
“Simon,” she sighed. “I cannot tell a lie. Earlier that door was open,” she confessed, pointing to the door that led into the living room, “and curiosity got the better of me, but I promise I didn’t touch anything.”
“I believe you,” he said, “and your honesty is almost too refreshing. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh, believe me, it was!” she exclaimed, “and still is.”
“I don’t know why that door was left open. I’ll have to ask Amaranth about that. It should have been closed and locked.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Belle laughed. “What’s in these boxes? I’ve been dying to know all day.”
“Then I suggest you open a few and take a gander,” he chuckled.
Moving quickly to the first one, she lifted the lid and found a red satin corset, trimmed in white lace with delicate bows traveling down the front.
“Simon,” she breathed, turning to look at him.
“Try the next one,” he urged.
Opening the adjacent package, she discovered a transparent white peignoir, with an ostrich feather neck and cuffs and matching panties.
“Each of those boxes holds a luscious piece of lingerie. Every time you have to dress up, guess what you’ll be wearing underneath your formal clothes? All evening I will be thinking about unwrapping you when we get home.”
Belle had been standing, transfixed, listening to the salacious instruction.
“Simon, you have just made another fantasy into reality, a fantasy I didn’t even know I had.”
“If there are pieces there that can’t be worn under a dress, like a robe, or gown, you can surprise me one night, perhaps after I’ve had an especially trying day.”
“I would love that,” she sighed.
Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest.
“You are the most remarkably romantic man, Simon Sinclair.”
“You’ve brought it out in me,” he replied.
A short time later, laying in bed, tired from the day and spe
nt from their earlier antics, the patter of the rain having grown into a light drumbeat, she lifted her head and kissed his cheek.
“I have something I want to tell you,” she sighed.
“And that would be?”
“When you were telling me about the bar, and how you loved The Thomas Crown Affair...”
“Yes, what about it?”
“It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought...uh...”
“You thought if you had, I might have doubted your sincerity,” he interjected.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“I understand, but I think we’ve passed that point, don’t you?”
“Yes, Simon, I do.”
“Changing the subject,” he stated, rolling on his side to face her,
“I thought it would be fun to drive to my manor in the country this weekend, Chatsworth Hall. I can’t wait to share it with you.”
“I would absolutely love that,” she replied happily.
“I was going to suggest Tyler Anderson and his wife should join us but I’ve changed my mind. First time at the manor, I want it to be just the two of us.”
“Tyler Anderson? Oh, that’s right, he referred you to my office,” Belle remarked. “I would love to see him and personally thank him.”
“Hmmm. There’s more to that story,” he confessed, “but it can wait for the drive up.”
“What do you mean?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.
“Too tired now,” he yawned. “On the drive up. It’s just the day after tomorrow. It will give us something to talk about in the car.”
His yawn was contagious.
“Okay, but I’m not letting you off the hook,” she warned, yawning back at him.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he smiled, and nestling under the covers, they fell asleep to the music of the rain splattering against the windows.
Belle studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was dressed in the black cocktail dress with the haphazard sequins, and on her feet were a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes, black patent leather with chrome heels. Simon had arranged for a shoe stylist to visit the house, and the efficient woman had arrived early in the afternoon with two assistants and dozens of pairs of shoes. Amaranth had stood by as Belle had tried on pair after pair, matching them to the new dresses and outfits that hung in her closet. While Belle was no slouch when it came to dressing to impress, she had formed a new appreciation for accessorizing. With the sparkling evening bag, the black and chrome heels, and a diamond tennis bracelet that she had bought for herself in celebration after her first sale, she looked stunning.
Underneath the dress, however, was something that sparked her sex the moment she’d put it on. It was a stretch lace bodysuit with a sexy twist. It was crotchless. It had been the first thing she had tried on, and she immediately decided it was perfect.
“To coin your phrase, wow,” Simon declared, entering her closet. “You look smashing. Lord Bardwell won’t know what to do with himself.”
“I must say, clothes do make the woman,” she sighed.
“Not in this case. It is the woman who is making the clothes,” he grinned. “Grab your coat. It’s still a bit damp out there.”
Her Versace coat was another item that she had brought with her. A $5000 coat she’d found on sale for $975 at Barneys in Beverly Hills. It was long and black and elegant, and had served her well on many occasions.
Draping it over her arm, she followed him out into the living room. He was about to take the coat to hold it for her as she slipped it on, when there was a gentle knock on the door, and Amaranth stepped in carrying a tray with two glasses of champagne.
“Please forgive the intrusion,” she smiled, with a slight bow of her head, “but I thought it might be nice to toast your first night out.”
“What a lovely idea,” Belle remarked, not trusting the woman for a moment.
“Yes, isn’t it?” Simon agreed, walking forward to take the tray. “I wish I’d thought of it.”
Belle’s radar beeped. It happened out of nowhere, an unexpected chill shuddering through her, telling her something was terribly wrong.
“Here you are, Miss Somers,” Amaranth said, deftly sidestepping Simon’s approach and offering Belle her glass.
“Thank you, Amaranth,” Belle replied, and as she stared at the champagne flute, she noticed a small black mark on the stem. Her radar beeped again.
“Simon, I just had a thought,” she announced.
“Oh? And what might that be?” he asked, taking his drink from Amaranth’s hand.
“The night I first met you I was so nervous I had a shot of vodka in the limousine on the way to the hotel, and the day you rescued me from that horrible Sean–”
“–you took a shot of vodka to calm your nerves,” he interrupted.
“And just last night, before you came home...” she winked, allowing him to silently finish the sentence.
“Ah, yes.”
“I think I want to make it a ritual,” she announced, carrying her champagne to the bookshelf and pushing it open to reveal the bar. “A shot of vodka will be my drink of choice whenever something special is about to happen. Something exciting, or something I might be nervous about. I hope you don’t mind, Amaranth,” she said, turning to face her. “Here, why don’t you have this, I’ll pour myself a shot, and we can all toast to a splendid evening.”
“But, but, champagne is a celebratory drink, Miss Somers, and this is Dom Perignon,” she protested hastily.
“All the more reason you should have it. I tend to be a bit, out of the box, as they say back in Los Angeles, so I think vanilla vodka will be my official celebratory poison,” Belle finished firmly.
“Yes, Amaranth, tonight is a special occasion so you’re welcome to join us,” Simon agreed.
Belle could feel her heart quicken as she turned back to the bar and retrieved the vodka from the freezer. Pouring a splash into a crystal shot glass, she was convinced she had just dodged a bullet, but she would know for sure if Amaranth refused to drink the champagne she was now holding.
“Here’s to a super evening,” Belle announced, raising her glass.
“And to Lord Bardwell, who I know will be knocked for six when he meets you,” Simon chimed in.
He and Belle sipped their drinks, but Amaranth stood stock still, staring at them.
“What’s the matter?” Belle politely inquired.
“I’m afraid champagne gives me a bit of a headache,” she lied.
“Even a sip for a toast?” Simon asked frowning.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I believe it might be the sulfites,” Amaranth explained.
“What a shame,” Simon remarked. “Well, my beautiful Miss Belle, I believe it’s time we left. Thank you again, Amaranth, for a lovely gesture.”
“Yes, thank you,” Belle smiled, downing the last of the vodka. “Oh, that’s just so good. Have a nice evening, Amaranth. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight,” Amaranth replied, and sidled backward as they walked past her.
As the elevator descended to the ground floor, Belle squeezed Simon’s arm.
“She is a bit of a strange one,” she commented lightly.
“Yes, she can be,” Simon agreed. “but I think she’s a good soul.”
Belle shook her head. For a smart man, Simon was being naive, and it surprised her.
“How did you come to hire her?” she asked nonchalantly.
“She was working as a personal shopper at Kairos, one of the few stores I buy my clothes. She was so attentive, and so up to speed about the latest designers and fashion trends, I decided to put make her my personal shopper.”
“Huh, interesting, and how did she become your social secretary?” Belle pressed, as they walked across the foyer and out to the waiting Rolls.
“The woman I had been using became pregnant and left, and it seemed that Amaranth was the ideal candidate. I mu
st say she did an excellent job.”
“You know, Simon, I don’t think I need a personal assistant. I think she’s wasted running around buying me bags. As far as dressing, I would much rather choose what to wear myself, or even better, have you select my clothes. You know you love doing it.”
“Hmmm, well I haven’t hired a new social secretary yet,” Simon remarked thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should bring her back.”
The car pulled away and Belle began to relax. The vodka was kicking in and it appeared she had made some progress in removing Amaranth from her life, but the woman was clearly unstable and needed to be out of the house completely.
“Just out of curiosity,” she continued, “what’s her background? She appears to have an excellent education, and as you said, she’s so switched on with all the fashion trends. I would have thought she might have had dreams of becoming a designer herself.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t,” Simon agreed, then added, “I suppose I should tell you the whole story.”
“I knew it!” Belle declared. “I knew there had to be more. She doesn’t have the personality of someone you’d normally hire.”
“You’re right, of course,” he admitted. “The short version is, Amaranth was born Athena Stephanopalous, the only child of a very wealthy Greek man, Starvos, a good friend of mine. She got into a spot of trouble as a young teenager, and when she left school he thought it might be a good idea for her to work at Kairos, one of his retail shops. He was hoping she’d grow into a management position. Unfortunately she didn’t exactly have the people skills, and even as a personal shopper, I ended up being her only customer.”
No kidding, Belle thought.
“That’s when he asked me if I might have a position for her, so I could sort of, keep an eye on her.”
“And that’s how she ended up working as your social secretary?”
“Yes,” Simon replied. “Though I don’t know why she changed her first name, I do understand why she would change Stephanopalous to Simington. It’s so much easier.”
“She does seem like quite a mystery woman when you think about it,” Belle commented, hoping Simon would get the hint.
The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Two Page 5